Intermission
by Shiraume
Summary: BL/Mature. Light/L. Set immediately after the famous fistfight between Light and L in volume 5. Spoiler alert only if you haven't read volume 5. Please be warned, as this fic contains adult-oriented content.


R. Light/L. Shameless boypr0n, with a side helping of drama and angst-if-you-squint. 1,340 words. Set right after the manga chapter 38, volume 5.

**Warning:** Possible spoiler alert, up to manga volume 5. (Sometimes deliberate) run-ons, fragments, and rambling sentences. Oh, and shameless boypr0n ahead!

* * *

[Written on October 25, 2006 :: Final edits on February 23, 2009]

**"Intermission"**

_by Shiraume_

The disadvantage of being handcuffed to someone, Raito decided, was that when you punched someone, you inevitably went down after your opponent did, pulled along by the chain. Any victory was a short-lived one. Which, he supposed, nicely summed up their situation, L and Yagami Raito.

Much to Misa's disappointment, Raito declined her offer to help, and headed to the bathroom with L for first aid. L had a split lip from Raito's first punch (Raito hadn't pulled his punch at all), and Raito could taste blood in his mouth after L's first kick (and neither had L).

"Here," Raito said, offering the cold pack to L, less because he was worried about L's swollen cheek, but because it was expected from Yagami Raito, the all-around perfect emblem of youthful excellence.

L took it without comment, and Raito wondered if L was in more pain than he let on, or he was just being thoughtlessly obnoxious again. With L, one could never tell. Raito thought he saw a wince as L shifted the cold compress on his cheek, and checked his less charitable thoughts.

"I'm sorry," Raito said graciously. He wasn't sure _why_ he had this strange desire to needle L, but it slipped out at the oddest times: a sliver of malicious glee at seeing L off balance, tipped with just enough viciousness to sound a faint alarm in his mind.

After all, other than the time L thought he was Kira and locked him up in a cell -- to be fair, at Raito's own request -- Raito had no particular reason to dislike him. Well, aside from L's odd comment about Raito's supposed _capabilities_ of being Kira, if not the first-hand experience.

"You're not really sorry," L said, so long after the initial silence that Raito had almost forgotten what he'd said.

"Well, not for punching you the first time," Raito admitted with a faint smirk. "But the times after that."

Those unnerving, wide eyes focused on him, and Raito blinked, taken aback. He had not meant anything serious by his comment. Had L gotten more ideas about Raito being Kira again?

"I kicked you after that." L looked like a scrawny street urchin perched on the toilet lid, slouched over his knees. A child, Raito corrected himself, who never had a chance to be a child in the first place, so had become an eternal child in an adult's body.

"So we're even?" The unblinking, blank look was really getting to Raito.

"For this."

Raito decided it wasn't worth pursuing, and reached for the towel.

And hissed when the metal of the cuff cut into the already abraded skin.

Raito, busy checking his wrist to make sure skin wasn't broken, did not notice L move until a fresh roll of gauze obstructed his view.

"Sorry," L said after full fourteen seconds of silence later.

"It's fine. The cuff cuts into your wrist, too, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." L held up his wrist, examining the skin under the cuff, the red ring of angry welt identical to Raito's.

"It cuts both way, like that," Raito said, and felt faint prickle of unease as he said this, though he could not imagine why.

"Yeah," L echoed, resting his chin on his propped knees, looking almost innocent in the childlike pose. L said nothing further while Raito busied himself wrapping first L's, and then his own wrist with the bandage.

"It always cuts both ways, with us."

Raito frowned, putting away the first aid kit. "What?"

"Just something I realized recently," L said dismissively. "It doesn't matter. Not for _you_, anyways."

Unsure how to reply, Raito closed the cabinet door, and straightened. "Ryuuzaki...?" L raised his face, but not his eyes. "Are we done here, or do you need more time to sulk in the bathroom?"

Something flashed in L's eyes, and Raito wondered if he'd just restarted their fight all over again, then a hand fisted his shirt and pulled hard. The mouth pressed against his was hot and dry, lips chapped and still a little swollen.

"Now we're done." L announced calmly after he pulled away, but did not release his hold on Raito's shirt. Abruptly, L was on his feet, leaving Raito's shirt askew about the neck.

"That's your bad habit," Raito observed, clinical, like they were talking about the weather, and thought he saw a faint smile cross L's lips.

"Are we done?" Same question, different nuance. But this was a familiar game now.

"No," Raito decided. Their kiss was hard, messy, and this time L opened his mouth and suddenly L's lips weren't that dry after all. "Not yet," Raito whispered feverishly. L made a sound that could have been an affirmation, a denial, or anything at all, and next moment they were on the floor, grinding their hips together in a frantic rhythm.

L's elbow was in the way, and Raito couldn't get his fly undone one-handed, so had to pull away for a moment. The bathroom floor was hard and cold with nothing to cushion them until Raito broke away long enough to kick off the rest of his clothes, and L snagged a towel and spread it under them.

It was strange to look at L like this: under him, eyes half-closed with an air of deceptive vulnerability about him: waiting, just as composed and calm as usual, or perhaps even more so. The spread of that perpetually mussed hair on the cold linoleum was something new, as was the angle; L, but different, somehow. More closed, yet more open. More exposed, but more dangerous than ever.

But...why would L be a danger to Raito? They had the same goal, the same purpose: to catch Kira. Same mental processes, even. Most people would have said they were uncannily similar. Only L and Raito would have disagreed. Raito knew this for certain.

What he didn't know was what L would do if he pressed his lips on L's collarbone and suck until a mark blossomed. What L would say if Raito put his fingers in L's hair and ruffle it even more while they fucked. So Raito pressed his lips on L's throat, and held still as L's breath caught, and held still a little longer. Slowly, L raised his hand to tangle his fingers in Raito's hair, and for a brief moment Raito had an irrational stab of desire to tear away from L.

He ignored it, and traced the line of L's collarbone with his tongue, listening to a different kind of hitch in L's breath this time. L did not complain even when Raito started using teeth to mark him, or when Raito reached down with fingers slick with massage cream to penetrate him. Instead, L put his arms around Raito, holding him anchored and shackled in the embrace, and Raito did not know which it might have been as he slowly pushed into L, swallowing what might have been a pained gasp.

It was difficult to find a position that worked for both of them, and they stumbled through the first few thrusts, until L spread his legs, wrapping them around Raito's waist. And Raito found himself perfectly cradled between L's thighs, rocking in and out of him with a slow, steady rhythm. When he came, L closed his eyes, and Raito, only seconds behind, buried his face on L's shoulder and had to bite down to muffle a scream.

Afterward, they exchanged no words, no kisses, simply helping each other sort through the clothing and put things in order.

"Raito-kun," L called quietly when Raito reached for the doorknob. Raito waited, but L said nothing. After another heartbeat, just one second -- to turn off the light, not to wait for L to call his name again -- then Raito opened the door, letting the light from outside spill over the darkness. L did not pause over the threshold as he stepped out, so Raito didn't, either.

Behind them, the bathroom door closed with a barely whispered click.

_Fin_

**A/N:** I do update my profile if nothing else, so please check my profile for latest news (?) and lame excuses for the lack of updates. This ficlet, like many of my fics, were written years before ever being posted publicly. The thing is, I write a heck of lot more than I post, and a substantial part of what I write -- provided the particular fandom does not turn into a long-term obsession -- is non-serious and often explicit. (Much like this one.) And with LiveJournal's crackdown on adult-themed material in the not so distant past, the last thing I wanted was to be booted off FF-net or LiveJournal. So here's to hoping FF-net at least gives me warnings before simply deleting my account like LJ did, as I _am_ rather fond of this account. ;)


End file.
